


Anniversary

by CieldelaRose



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, Pets are not great with chewy things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 11:16:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2148687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CieldelaRose/pseuds/CieldelaRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[prompt: Ryack, six year anniversary and someone brought helium. Lots and lots of helium.]</p>
<p>Wherein large quantities of helium are involved and 6th year anniversaries aren't forgotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'ed by the lovely Isla (http://fliphairnrun.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Ryack prompts are always welcome. :)

He feels a weight on his arm, his very cold, very numb arm. There’s something tickling his nose too, and an arm around his waist. He sits up, brushes a stray hair away from his face and yawns. [9:30], the alarm clock blares at him in bright neon purple. He presses a hand to Ryan’s shoulder. “Ryan,” he shakes him gently. “ _Ryan_.” He repeats. Ryan mumbles incoherently for a few moments, before his eyes blink open and he grimaces at the Jack-shaped-blob.

“What?” Jack brushes his hand through Ryan’s bed head.

“Good morning, love.” The other smiles and takes Jack’s hand in his own.

“Morning.”

They get up, sharing a quick kiss before going about their morning routines. Jack goes downstairs to start making breakfast, while Ryan goes into the bathroom. He listens to Ryan brushing his teeth and squints at the coffee pot to see how much coffee there is left. Not enough for the both of them, by the looks of things, so he has to make some more. There are still some eggs left in the fridge from the last time they both went shopping, and some milk too. Cereal may still be a possibility. He smells the milk. _“Blegh_ ,” he mutters. Eggs it is then. He hears Ryan rummaging through their bedroom dresser while he fries the eggs.

“Ryan, did you do the load of laundry I asked you to do yesterday?” Jack calls out from downstairs. There’s absolute silence for a minute and then a muffled curse. Ryan’s voice rings out from the bedroom.

“Um, no?” Of course not. Ryan disliked doing laundry, he skirted around it every time it was his turn, even offering to do the dishes instead.

“Just come down for breakfast, the eggs will be done in a minute!” There’s footsteps going down the stairs, and Ryan slumps onto one of the kitchen chairs, his hair disheveled and his eyes unfocused. He puts the fried eggs on the table and sits down.

 “Thanks,” Ryan says, grabbing a fork and digging in. They eat in silence for a while, occasionally trading glances.

Ryan puts the dishes in the sink while Jack goes upstairs to get ready. “I have to go to the bank today, do you need me to bring anything from the store nearby while I’m at it?” he asks, putting on his shoes.

“Nah, I think I’ll do some of the chores I haven’t gotten around to yet. Coincidently, we may be out of clean underwear.” He grabs his keys and kisses Ryan before leaving. “Don’t be too long, Jack,” he hears, whispered gently in his ear.

“I’ll be back in fifty minutes, tops!” He calls, as he closes the front door.

Jack walks to their car slowly, looking behind him into the house. He gets into the car and immediately looks at the rearview mirror, to make sure Ryan isn’t looking as he drives the _opposite_ way from the bank. There’s little to no traffic, and a voyage that would usually take about twenty to thirty minutes on a Monday takes about ten on Saturday. He gets there in record time and parks nearby. The pet store sign is a white paw against a green background, the doors and windows filled with stickers advertising dog and cat food brands, with the odd poster about a missing pet. The inside smells distinctly like wet dog, and the cashier on duty sits behind the counter with a look so dead it’s attracting a few flies. She doesn’t acknowledge him, and he makes his way to the back of the store, where the puppies lie.

All three of them are awake, one playing with a chew toy, the other rubbing himself belly side up on the pile of newspaper scraps covering the ground. The last of them is sat down looking straight at him, its tail wagging lethargically. “Hey there, Shelby.” The wagging increases in speed and she comes closer to paw at the window separating them. Her soft, cream fur stands at a disarray and her intelligent brown eyes pierce through Jack. “We’ll get you home soon.” He says softly, and goes up to the front desk. They get Shelby in a dog carrier and into Jack’s car. He drives home with a hand next to the bars of the carrier so Shelby can lick his hand, to her delight, and if she arrives fluffier than she left, like someone petted her while whispering “ _Who’s a good girl? You’re a good girl_ ,” until her fur was in a bit of a mess, well, it’s no one’s business. He gets her out of the carrier and settles her in a one armed hug-hold that’s secure enough for Jack to wrench out his keys.

Ryan is going to love the little pup, he just knows it. He was a sucker for animals and they relayed in kind, flocking to him in hordes, seeking his immediate attention and love. He grew up around animals, his family owning a farm back in Georgia that had four cats, two dogs and a rabbit to top it off, and their presence had made Ryan an animal whisperer (no matter how much Ryan protested against it). This was it, bringing the puppy into the house for the first time. They had talked about getting one years ago, but had never gotten around to going through with it. The house seemed too big for the two of them, and Ryan’s sad glances at the neighbor’s cat hadn’t gone unnoticed. He can just imagine the look of surprise on Ryan’s face when he sees the little ball of fluff. He will be ecstatic.

Or would be, if there weren’t _balloons_ stopping Jack from entering the house _._ The puppy shakes in Jacks arms, trying to reach his face.  “Ryan?” He calls out into the house. When he hears no response, he starts making his way through the mass of balloons in front of him.

Ten minutes into his exploration, it becomes clear that navigating a balloon jungle whilst simultaneously trying to keep an overexcited puppy away from his face was going to be impossible, so he puts the dog down on the first bit of floor he can see. Floor is a commodity, it seems, when you walk surrounded by vision impairing balloons. It seems like a good idea at first, and it would be, if the puppy hadn’t decided to help Jack along by popping _every_ balloon in sight _._ _POP!_ Goes the first balloon, the sound muffled in the mass of inflatables. After that, each pop was louder, the empty balloons falling to the floor around him.

At some point, they had cleared enough balloons for the sound to be loud enough to reach where Ryan was waiting. “Jack?” The living room, by the looks of things. The puppy does a complete 180 and starts popping balloons and barking excitedly in Ryan’s general direction. Barking loudly, and in an absolutely highest tone Jack has ever heard.

“ _Jesus,_ ” he says, in a tone much similar to the puppy’s. “Fuck!” Balloons pop in rapid succession, they move on, the dog leading their weird, helium filled expedition onwards. When they reach the living room Ryan’s already at the door looking downward with an excited expression. Not the face of surprise Jack was hoping for, but hey, it’ll do. The puppy makes her way through the balloons first, jumping into Ryan’s arms. “Hey,” Jack says, and Ryan’s eyes zero in on him immediately, his face a mask of surprise (there it is!).

“Pfft,” He starts, drawing an extremely intimidating scowl out of Jack.

“ _Don’t you dare laugh, Haywood,_ ” he counters, and Ryan falls apart at the seams, laughing hysterically. His laugh gets higher and higher as helium begins filling his lungs, and Jacks previously penetrating glare melts into laughter as well. 

“Happy anniversary, Jack.” Ryan says, a hand cradling Jack’s face, the other keeping the puppy away from his face.

“Happy anniversary, Ryan.” Jack smiles into Ryan’s lips.

Later, when they have to clean the sea of red balloons covering the entirety of their floor, and run back to the store to buy some pet food for Shelby, they’re glad they didn’t just go out to dinner.


End file.
